Between the Lines
by Guenelyn
Summary: A series of short "between the chapter" chapters from Just Life. Be sure to read the relevant chapters of J.L. before reading these.
1. Wrecked: Lester

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Janet Evanovich, I just love to play in her sandbox!

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: This is going to be a series of shorts which all take place during Just Life. They might be "between the chapter" chapters, or they might be events from another character's POV. They'll be titled by the chapter they follow from Just Life and the POV. You still with me? Make sure to read through the relevant chapters of Just Life before reading these or they won't make much sense.

Since these will mostly be from the POV of Ranger and the Merry men, I'll be including military lingo and some Spanish; the translations will be at the end of the chapters. Enjoy! And don't forget to let me know what you think!

* * *

The call came in around 19:30; hit and run on Broad Street. Normally, this wouldn't concern Rangeman; and it didn't this time, not until her name was mentioned. I was monitoring the police scanner, cursing my luck for ending up with the shit job tonight, trying my hardest to keep frosty. As soon as her name came across the waves, I was on the phone calling Ranger.

"Talk."

"Situation with Steph, Boss. Hit and run."

"Casualties?"

"Negative."

"I'm on it."

"Aren't you on a job?"

"Mind yours, Santos." He hung up.

I had to laugh. The man had it bad. He was in the middle of a fucking job and he was going to drive over there himself to see that she was safe. He could have sent one of a dozen men who were probably closer and not busy. That's exactly what he would have done a year, even six months ago. Lately, though he would never admit it, I think he just needed to see her with his own eyes. Ever since that Scrog thing, the man has been seriously overprotective.

I couldn't really blame him, though. Steph was an amazing woman. A man would be nuts to step back from her, even if she was seeing someone else. There was always a chance the other guy would screw up. I just hoped Ranger had the guts to step in if that happened. Lord knows, he's got his head so far up his ass he'd need a map to get it out.

I heard the cop's name come over the scanner and knew that he'd shown up at the scene to yell at Steph. I wasn't sure why she put up with it. Every time I saw him get in her face, it took serious effort not to break him in half. I knew the rumors about the Morelli men, and all of us here at Rangeman had an unspoken agreement that if he followed his heritage, it would only be a matter of time before he went tits up.

My phone buzzed on my belt. The caller ID said Tank.

"Yeah," I answered it.

"Anyone checking on the bomber?"

He'd obviously heard about the accident.

"Boss is on it."

"Thought he was on a job."

"He was."

Tank was silent for a moment.

"Lima Charlie." Then he hung up.

I shook my head. Clearly Tank understood what was up with Ranger, too. Our boy was seriously smitten.

* * *

A/N: Military lingo thanks to Wiktionary, watching too much NCIS, an army brat mom, and an ex-national guard father.

19:30- military time 7:30 pm

Frosty- alert, watchful

Tits up (in polite conversation, he would have used the phonetic abbreviation 'tango uniform') – killed, destroyed

Lima Charlie- phonetic abbreviation for 'loud and clear'


	2. Distracted: Tank

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: This one takes place towards the end of chapter 2 of Just Life. Hope you like it!

* * *

I wasn't sure what the hell Ranger was thinking setting up this clusterfuck. I'd asked him that myself about two days ago, but he'd told me to 'trust him' and that was the end of it. I know that Steph is the best we've ever had for these jobs, but this just seemed a bit much to me. Should he really be getting her involved with this op? It was definitely in that shady grey area which we usually kept her out of.

But Ranger was the boss, and despite everything, I did trust him, so here we were, camped out in a hotel room, listening to Steph getting mauled in the elevator.

Ranger looked like he was either going to puke or kill himself. I felt similarly.

The op had gone as planned until Mortars decided that they had to take the elevator. We'd told Steph to take the stairs, that way Bobby and Lester could follow her up. I knew we should have left her out of this.

"Fuck," I heard Ranger mutter, running a hand back through his hair.

Over the mic, we could hear Steph trying to convince the guy to wait until they got to the room.

"He's hit the emergency stop," Bobby said a moment later.

"Shit," Ranger said. I was kind of afraid he was going to pull all of his hair out if he didn't stop that. "Get her out of there. You hear me? Fucking abort."

"Hang on man," Les said. "Elevators moving again."

Ranger's knuckles were white, he was clenching his fists so tight. I heard him grind his teeth. He motioned for me to get into the bathroom behind me. I stepped back through the door and unholstered my gun.

We heard the elevator doors ding open and Steph giggling over the mic. A minute later, the door to the room opened. I waited until I heard it shut, like we had planned and stepped out into the room. Ranger was out of the bedroom at the exact same moment.

One look at Steph told me that she was scared. In fact, she was pretty damn close to panicking. She turned to Ranger. I knew that his face would tell her nothing; he'd gone into ranger mode.

Then, quicker than any of us could react, Mortars had her around the waist, a knife to her throat. Steph's eyes widened. I heard Ranger suck in a nearly inaudible breath.

What happened next was almost a blur.

Ranger laughed, there was a bit of back and forth between him and Mortars, and Ranger gave me the signal to raise my weapon. I did it without hesitation. This op was FUBAR enough. Times like this I reverted back to army mode. You trust your leader implicitly and without hesitation or someone gets killed.

"We're outside the door," Lester said in my earpiece. "Hold him off for a minute."

I kept my eyes focused on Mortars even as the door opened and Lester stepped through, stun gun out and ready.

The rest was almost too quick to follow. Les touched the gun to Mortars' neck, Mortars slumped forward onto Steph, Bobby grabbed him and hauled him back, and Ranger was across the room.

I reholstered my gun and moved to secure Mortars.

I looked up in time to see Steph's face pale. My eyes tracked to the knife which Bobby had picked up off the ground. There was blood on it.

If Steph had had the presence of mind to look up at Ranger in that moment, she probably would have fainted in shock. His blank face was completely absent, the concern and fear and self-loathing clearly evident.

By the time Bobby and Lester took Steph and left, Ranger was positively humming with pent up energy. I had a feeling that most of that energy was in the form of rage.

I got my confirmation a moment later. Mortars stirred and sat up, automatically pulling against the cuffs I'd used to secure him to the radiator.

Ranger turned to me, eyes black and all too readable. I'd seen that look before; that week in Singapore, hunting the monsters who had burned the orphanage; the minute he'd gotten the call that Julie was missing; the night before Abruzzi committed suicide.

"I've got your back, man."

We both knew what I was really saying; I'd try and stop him before he got carried away, but if I couldn't, I'd help him get rid of the body.

* * *

Army-speak:

Clusterfuck- pretty much a chaotic mess, especially involving a large group of people

FUBAR- Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition (or Repair)


	3. Stalked: Ranger

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading and to everyone who's given me a review. You guys are awesome! Here's one from Ranger's POV. It takes place towards the end of chapter 3. Enjoy!

* * *

I was driving to a new account, headed out of Trenton, when my phone buzzed on my belt. A quick glance down at the display told me that it was my babe. I felt my lips tip up. She was probably calling to berate me for not checking in with her last night.

"Yo," I answered, prepared for the nagging.

"Head," I heard her whimper. "In my fridge. All dead and cold and…"

I told her to breath, my foot already jamming down on the break pedal. I pulled a U-turn with barely a glance in either direction. "Now tell me what's wrong."

She stammered on about a head in her fridge, but I was more concerned with the quick, shallow way she was breathing. If there was someone in her apartment, I needed her to be alert and aware until I could get there and put the fear of God in them.

"Steph, I'm on my way, you need to breathe."

I listened to her take a few deep breaths before asking the question that really needed answering.

"Babe, is there anyone still in your apartment?"

She was silent for a split second too long and I put my foot to the floor, weaving around a minivan and a yellow pick-up truck.

"No," she finally breathed.

I relaxed fractionally, but didn't ease my foot off the gas. I told her to keep breathing and hung up to call the cops.

I pulled into her parking lot just as I hung up with Gazarra. I took the stairs in leaps and bounds and flew to her door. This was like Scrog all over again, except I had no idea what was waiting for me. It didn't matter. I had the door unlocked and opened in about six seconds, a new record for me.

I didn't look at her as I entered the apartment. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her small, huddled form at the base of the cabinets. I could hear her taking slow, deep breaths. I moved instead to the refrigerator. I needed a moment to pull myself together before I let her see my face.

I pulled the door open. I took a small step back and had to stifle a laugh at what was in the refrigerator.

A pig head.

Fucking swine.

I'd broken about two dozen traffic laws getting over here for a fucking pig head.

I turned and looked down at Steph, so small and scared looking, and the urge to laugh faded.

I'd do it all over again if I had to.

She had her knees drawn up to her chest, hugging them to her body. She was staring off into the space in front of her, focusing on her deep breathing. I knelt down before her and placed my hands on her knees, rubbing small circles there.

"Babe, that's a pig head."

* * *

A/N: No military lingo in this one. I've got a few more of these to post, then I'll be back to Just Life, I promise.

Let me know what you thought.


	4. Betrayed: Lester

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks so much for the awesome reviews! I'm glad you guys like getting things from an alternate POV. This one is from Lester and it takes place from the end of chapter 6, through the middle of chapter 7. Enjoy!

* * *

"I need you to find Stephanie on GPS and go get her."

"Is she okay?" I asked, disbelief making my voice a bit too high. How could he sound so calm while telling me to find the bombshell and go get her?

He was quiet for a moment, then his voice came over the line, rough and low. "Just find her, Santos. Stay with her if she asks you to."

"Yeah, man. Of course. Anything on Morelli yet?"

Ranger had put surveillance on the cop after Steph's stalker indicated that he might be cheating. We weren't real sure how the bombshell was going to feel about that. I mean, if it was me I'd want to know one way or the other, but Steph had a lifetime pass to the Land of Denial, so who knows.

"Nothing yet," Ranger said. "I've got the watch now."

I grimaced. I really hoped Ranger wouldn't be the one to catch Morelli. Things could get really ugly.

"Try not to do anything stupid," I told him.

"No promises," he said, then he hung up.

I flicked on the GPS tracker that was standard issue to all of the Rangeman SUVs and pulled up the bomber. She was en route to her apartment, probably from the bonds office.

I pulled into her lot about half a minute before she did, and I could see even through the windshield that she was upset. I was surprised she hadn't caused a wreck driving over here in this state.

Suddenly Ranger's calm, almost dead voice made sense. He had been trying to hide his emotions. He obviously knew that she was upset, he probably knew why. I just hoped he didn't get himself in trouble when he went after the person who had caused it.

I had Steph out of the car and in my arms in about two minutes.

"What is it, beautiful?" I asked as I tucked her into my side and pulled her towards the building.

She merely shook her head. She didn't say a word all the way up the stairs or down the hall to her apartment. I opened the door and did a quick walk through. Still she was silent, moving into the kitchen.

"Should I call Ranger?" I asked. I was getting desperate. I wasn't used to dealing with emotional women. I knew that Ranger was busy, but I also knew that he'd drop everything and be here in a minute if Steph needed him.

She sniffled, shaking her head vehemently. "No," she gasped out.

If I didn't know better, I'd think she was afraid of the idea of Ranger coming here. I saw red. He was my cousin and he was my boss, but if he thought he could hurt this woman and get away with it…

I took a deep breath. "He's the cause of this, isn't he?"

She looked up like she was surprised to see me there, like she was perplexed that I didn't already know the answer to my question. Of course. She probably thought I'd been following her. Ranger always dismissed her guards when he was with her. No need for two of us to guard her body.

"He called me after you left the office and told me to find you on the GPS," I told her. Her eyes widened fractionally. Steph and her silly ESP theories. Didn't she know that her face was an open book? We didn't need ESP, we could read every thought as it crossed her gorgeous face.

Her expression turned to anger and disbelief. I had to know. I respected Ranger, I didn't really believe he could harm an innocent woman, but if he'd hurt her…

"What did my cousin do to you, Stephanie?"

"Cousin?" she gasped. "Ranger is your cousin?"

I nodded, distracted for the moment. "My mom and his mom are sisters. He never told you?"

She shook her head and walked over to the couch. I sat next to her. Ranger was such a fucking idiot. This man of mystery shit had gone on long enough. He loved her, I knew that even if he wouldn't admit it, why couldn't he just let her in?

"Ranger doesn't tell me much."

I had to laugh at that. As far as Ranger-revelations went, Steph got more than any of us. I'd known him longer than anyone, and as far as really knowing the man behind the blank mask went, Steph was about two dozen steps in front of me.

"Oh, I know that's not true," I told her. "Ranger tells you more than he tells anyone." I glanced down to gauge her reaction and saw her shiver. I grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it around her, leaving my arm around her shoulders. If my damn cousin didn't step up soon, he might just find himself with some more competition. "You know about Julie and Rachel."

Steph snorted. "Barely."

"Not much else to tell, Bombshell. It was a one time mistake and Ranger dealt with it in the only way he knew how, he married the girl."

She looked up into my eyes like they held the answers to the universe. I felt myself harden a bit. Damn it, this girl was amazing. I thought about old naked guys, I thought about dead bodies, I thought about Steph's Grannie Mazur in the bathtub.

"Why do you call him Ranger?" Steph was asking. I focused back on her. "I always expected his family to call him Carlos."

I laughed at the direction her thoughts had taken. I'd been expecting more questions about Rachel and Julie. I wasn't sure I was the one to answer those questions. This one I could do. "They do. And I call him Carlos when we're with family." I thought about the reasons I called him Ranger. It wasn't just a nickname, it was a title; a title he'd earned with blood and sweat and maybe a tiny little piece of his soul.

"He earned the name Ranger," I said after awhile. "He was a Ranger for almost six years. Youngest Ranger in a real long time. He was a damn fine Captain."

For the next twenty minutes, I told her a bit about growing up with Carlos, about our time in the army, about our family. She was mostly silent, relaxed against me. She asked the occasional question, put in a smart remark or two. It was nice, but it should be Ranger here relaxing with her, telling her about his life. I felt like an imposter. I made a decision to talk to him, to try to put some sense into his thick skull.

She thanked me for helping her know him, for distracting her. I kissed her on the head and cursed myself for what I'd done. She was in now. I know that she had been before, but now she was getting to know the real Carlos and I could see the way it had changed her demeanor. She was in love with him, it was obvious. And I had just drawn her deeper into the life of 'Batman', as she liked to call him. I just hoped like hell that he would let her the rest of the way in, because it was clear that she would be torn to pieces if he kicked her back out again.

"Anytime, beautiful. That cousin of mine better watch himself, or I might just move in on him."

I watched her close her eyes and swallow hard. She was still hurting. "Ranger doesn't want me. He has…"

I laughed out loud. That she could possibly think such a thing was absurd. "Right, bombshell, and I'm Catwoman." I waved and let myself out of her apartment.

Now I just had to deal with that stubborn cousin of mine.

* * *

I pulled up a few blocks from Morelli's house and climbed out of my car. I could just see the black SUV parked a block over, lights dark, engine off. It had a clear view of the cop's house and a quick getaway route if anything went down. Ranger hadn't lost his touch.

I crossed the distance quietly, sticking to the shadows. Even with my careful approach, I knew that he'd spotted me. The locks clicked open as I approached, and though he didn't look at me as I climbed into the passenger's side, he nodded and muttered, "Santos."

We were both silent for a while, watching the cop move around in his kitchen. He was alone. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"What the fuck did you do to her, Ranger?"

He sighed, a very uncommon action for Ranger. "Nothing," he said.

"Bullshit. That girl was so upset I'm surprised she didn't crash on her way home."

I could hear him grit his teeth. His fingers practically strangled the steering wheel.

"You could have at least driven her home," I said.

"She wouldn't have let me," he said quietly.

"Carlos, what the hell happened? Because if you hurt her…"

He swung around to face me and his eyes were deadly black. I sucked in a breath.

"I never…" he gritted out. "I would never lay a hand on any woman in anger. I would never hurt Stephanie, know that."

His fists were clenched so tightly I was surprised I didn't have a bloody nose yet. I nodded.

"We…had a discussion, of sorts. It was a…misunderstanding. She'll be fine." He turned back to the house, his eyes narrowed as he watched the cop move to the door, keys in hand.

"I'm not so sure about that," I muttered.

"What?" He asked as he waited for Morelli to pull out of his driveway, then followed him at a distance. Guess I was along for the ride.

"You can't keep playing these games with her, Carlos. Either let her in or butt the hell out. She deserves better."

He ignored me, pretending to be in his 'zone' as Steph called it. We followed Morelli across town to the business district and watched as he parked behind an empty office building.

"I'm not ready yet," Ranger said suddenly, softly.

I had no idea what he was talking about. It didn't really matter just now.

"She's not going to wait forever. You need to get your penis peelers off your ass and…"

"I know," he whispered.

Morelli climbed out of his car and glanced around. Damn fine cop, my ass. We were fucking parked two buildings down on the opposite side of the road; first place I'd look for a tail. He saw nothing.

I was about to speak again when the door of the building flew open and a woman walked out and headed straight for Morelli.

"Fuck," I heard Ranger mutter, just before he reached down and retrieved a camera from under his seat.

He snapped a few pictures, sure to capture both faces. I watched, a sick feeling bubbling up in the pit of my stomach as Morelli grabbed the woman and pushed her up against the wall of the building. Her leg came up around his waist and I had to turn away.

Ranger snapped one last picture, then replaced the camera beneath the seat. "Fuck," he repeated.

"Fuck indeed," was all I could reply.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Penis peelers- hands

Let me know what you thought!


	5. Ensnared: Ranger

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks so much again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. It means so much to me! This is the last chapter of Between the Lines before I get back to Just Life. I'll probably post some more here, but not until I've got a few chapters of JL up. This one's from Ranger's pov, and takes place during chapter 12 of Just Life, but you should definitely read ch. 12 first. I hope you like this one, it's definitely my favorite.

* * *

"Boss, we lost the bomber."

It wasn't the first distressing call I'd had about my babe, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but it was probably the most worrying.

"We think she went after Mortars."

I swore low under my breath and turned to look over my shoulder at the government brass I was supposed to be meeting with. I'd told Tank only to call if there was an emergency, so I hadn't paused before excusing myself to answer his call. I wasn't sure how smart it was to make the Big Men wait, but I had just known that it would be about Steph. There was no one I wouldn't piss off for that woman.

"Explain," I told Tank, ignoring the glares I was getting from the men behind me.

"She agreed to stay in the building. She was doing some searches. I got called out to a break-in and it turned into a situation. SNAFU. She called to ask if we'd found Trotter yet, I told her that we hadn't and asked if she was okay. She was, so I hung up.

"I got a call about an hour and a half later from Bobby saying that she wasn't in the building anymore."

My babe. Try to lock her up and her independence reared its beautiful head. If there was a way to escape, she'd find it. My men knew what would happen to them if they let any harm come to her, but I really couldn't blame them. Hell, I'd lost her a time or two myself. The woman was just too damn good at disappearing.

"You watched the tapes?" I asked Tank.

"Of course," Tank said. "She left around 14:00. Took some roundabout route through the gym. It was genius, really. Bobby only realized she was missing when he went to get her from your office at 18:00 for quitting time."

She'd been using my office. For some reason, I was almost hard at the idea of that. You're sick, Manoso.

"Where'd she head?" I asked.

"Took a left out of the garage. We ran the history on her cell phone and her tracker. She drove to Stark Street, then parked on the Lenning for about ten minutes. She took off and ended up at the McDonalds on Olden. We found the car there, but Bomber wasn't in it. Her purse and her cell phone were on the seat."

"Any evidence of a struggle?" I asked quietly.

"No blood, but there was an empty syringe with a hypodermic needle on the floor of the passenger's side. I'm having the guys test it as we speak."

"Mr. Manoso," I heard one of the suits call to me. I ignored them.

"What else?"

"That's it, Rangeman. I called as soon as we found the car without her in it. I've got guys searching the area, and another group trying to find out what was on Lenning that she could have been interested in. Chances are it was just a diversion for us. You know how the bomber is. She was only parked there for ten minutes. We haven't got anything so far."

"Mr. Manoso, we really need to finish this meeting."

I turned and glared at the suit. He took a step back.

"Triple effort on finding Mortars. I'll be home soon."

"Rangeman, you don't have to worry, we'll find her. Finish your business."

My jaw clenched and I gripped the phone hard enough to hear a crack.

"I'll be home soon," I repeated. There was silence for a moment.

"Okay," Tank said. "Call when you're in, I'll send a man to pick you up at the airport."

I disconnected and turned back to the three suits now standing silent and disgruntled just outside the door of the room we'd been in.

"I'm leaving," I told them in my best menacing mercenary voice.

"Mr. Manoso," the lead suit said, taking a step forward. "We need to finish our meetings, and you've still got debriefing paperwork to complete. You can leave in a few days. Until then…"

None of these men had ever seen action. They all knew my reputation as a sneaky spy and a merciless killer. All I had to do was take a step forward and lower my voice. They all cringed.

"This bureaucratic bullshit has gone on long enough. I'm done. Then end. You can send any further paperwork to my office in Trenton."

Then I turned and left.

As I pounded down four flights of stairs, I wondered how smart it had been to backtalk the government honchos who held my future in their hands. Shit, I'd pretty much given them a left-handed solute.

If I was really honest with myself, I knew that I didn't actually care. Stephanie was far more important. I'd come to realize in the past year or so that I'd do anything for her. I'd killed for her. I'd die for her. I'd fight my way to the ends of the earth for her. Hell, I'd probably jump out of a bird without a 'chute if she asked me to. If it was the only way to escape my contract, I knew that I'd take my babe and go into hiding.

I was to the street, hailing a cab in five minutes and to my hotel in fifteen. I took a few moments to gather my things.

Normally Tank would have handled travel arrangements, but I wanted all of his focus on finding Stephanie. I'd just have to wing it.

The trip to the airport was a blur. I was trying to get into my 'zone', as Steph calls it, but all I could do was will the cabbie to just fucking step on it. I hated not having the right kind of contacts in D.C. If I'd been in Trenton, I would have had a brand new Porsche at my disposal ten minutes ago.

I regretted not calling ahead of time the minute I got to the ticket desk. The next flight headed anywhere near Trenton left tomorrow afternoon. No way was I waiting that long. I took about two seconds to think, then I was headed back out to the parking garage.

This is a dumbass move, Manoso, I told myself even as I scanned the lot for the fastest car I could find. The Viper was nice, but the owners would no doubt have some sort of tracking system. I could disable it, but I was loathe to waste the time. I settled on a Mercedes that was a few years old. I had the doors open and the thing hotwired in three minutes.

I was on the highway in another ten. Shit, almost six hours had passed since Steph went missing. A whole hell of a lot could happen in six hours. The trip from D.C. to Trenton should take four hours. I'd do it in three, but that was still too long. It was time for plan Bravo. I dialed Tank.

"Nothing new, boss," Tank answered.

I'd figured as much. "You and Santos, my office, now."

"You go it, Boss."

I heard him moving about. There was some muffled conversation, then a door was shut. Tank came back on the line.

"We're here, Rangeman."

"Am I on speakerphone? I'm not repeating this."

"Hearing you loud and clear, Cuz," Lester said,

"Good. Listen up. I'm going to tell you how to find Steph."

They were both silent.

"What I'm about to tell you is confidential. It does not leave the room." I wouldn't even be saying it over the phone if I hadn't assured the safety of these lines myself.

"Aye, boss."

"Sí, primo."

"Log on to my computer." They knew most of my passwords; there were few secrets between us.

"I'm on, Ranger," Tank told me a moment later.

"Click on the icon labeled Eliza." I thought back to that day all those years ago when I'd told her I'd be the Henry Higgins to her Eliza Doolittle. I should have done a better job.

"The password is Five-Seven-Three-Papa-Four-Alpha-November-One-Three-Niner."

I heard one of them typing, and then Lester's voice came over the line.

"Ranger, what is this, man?"

"What are you seeing?"

"It's a map of Trenton," Tank said, "with a red dot in the middle."

I waited for it to click.

"Shit," Les finally breathed. "Is that where Steph is?"

I closed my eyes briefly, my hands on the steering wheel tightening.

"Where is she?"

"Building about halfway down Lenning."

"Fuck."

"But, how, Cuz? What is this tracking? Her tracker and her cell phone were both in the car."

"Doesn't matter," I told them. "Just don't let her know how you found her."

"We're on it, boss," Tank told me softly. "We'll bring her home safe." Then he disconnected.

I smiled as I closed my phone and replaced it on my belt. It was an army thing; say what you're saying in the least amount of words – no time wasted on pleasantries or unnecessary words. Steph thought it was just bad phone manners. I tried, really I did, but so many years in the army had ingrained it into my mind. It was hard to drop the habit. But I had been trying lately, for her.

Protecting what was yours was another army thing. Protect your country, protect your six, protect your men. Now I was protecting my babe. I just hoped she never found out, because I was pretty sure she'd hate me for it.

The asphalt flew by, the streetlights coming on to illuminate the coming night. It was nearly 21:00. Two more hours to go, and nothing to do but think.

I contemplated my relationship with Steph. Because if I was being honest with myself, that's exactly what it was; a relationship. She was the closest thing I'd ever had to a best friend. She made me laugh. She kept me sane. I loved her. I wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but I think it might have been during the time I was in hiding and she called to see if I was alright. She never questioned my innocence. She didn't ask where I was or what I was doing. She'd simply asked, "Are you okay?"

It had been so long since anyone had bothered to call just to see if I was okay. It had been a long time since someone had cared enough. I'm pretty sure that's the point where I handed myself over, heart and soul.

I couldn't get over how scared she'd sounded the other night when she'd asked if I was seeing anyone. As if I could fit anyone else into my life, into my heart. She already owned me completely. And now I wanted to own her. For real this time. Forever. I was done living without her, watching her with the cop.

So when I'd survived the Scrog incident, and Steph and Julie had been alright, I'd made a promise to myself that I wouldn't hold back this time.

Only it wasn't that easy. Life never is.

There was Morelli, of course. And there was the fact that I wasn't a free agent. I couldn't promise Stephanie anything besides the fact that I might come home to her in a pine box.

So I'd bided my time. And in the interim I'd stayed as connected and involved as was possible.

Scrog wasn't what started the nighttime visits. No, those had begun much earlier, right about the time I handed over my heart.

At first it was just on nights after particularly bad jobs; those nights when I really needed a touch of humanity, a hint of innocence.

I'd sit in the chair by her bed and watch her chest rise and fall, her nose twitch when her hair fell across her face. I'd listen to her soft, steady breathing and know that life was worth living, that I could go on, had to, because she was here and safe and alive. Slowly, my hands would unclench and my brow would ease and my breathing would slow to match hers.

Over time, the visits became more frequent; once a week, then twice, then three times. More frequent when she wasn't with the cop. It became less about needing the comfort and more about needing her. It was always about keeping my sanity. I thought that without her light, I might just succumb to the darkness which surrounded me on most days.

She claimed that her spidey-sense told her when I was near, and maybe it did, but she hardly ever woke up.

She must have known on some subconscious level that I was there, though. I learned to live for those moments when she moaned my name in her sleep, reaching out for some phantom. I so longed to reach back, to take her into my arms and hold her until morning, but I always resisted. It was best if she never knew I was here, if she went on believing that I had distanced myself from her. I wasn't ready for her to know yet.

Three weeks after Scrog, during one of these visits, I made my decision.

They were in her ears, as always; the opal birthstone earrings her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday. I'd noticed them before, and that she always wore them. They were perfect.

I'd been toying with the idea for awhile, finding a way to track her without her knowledge. It would be an invasion of privacy, I knew, but I couldn't stand the thought that I might lose her, that I might be too late next time. I'd only turn it on in an emergency. It would only be accessible from my computer at Rangeman, so no psycho would ever get a hold of it. She never needed to know about it. She'd never have to hate me for it.

So I'd used all of my secret black ops skills which she was so impressed with, and I'd slipped the earrings out of her ears.

It was a very good thing that I was Batman and I had a contingent of highly specialized Merry Men under my command, because otherwise I might not have had the earrings back in her perfect little lobes by sunrise, complete with tracking device.

And I'd never activated it. Until now.

I just hoped that it would be enough, that Tank and Lester could find her in time. I prayed that this wouldn't be the night I got home to find that her number was up. I pushed the thought from my mind. The men would find her. There was no other option.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading. If there are any scenes that you'd like to see from someone else's POV, please let me know and I'll think about writing it.

Brass: high-ranking officers in the military

SNAFU: Sort of a sarcastic reply to an inquiry on how things are going: Situation Normal, All Fucked Up

14:00- 2:00 pm

17:30- 5:30 pm

Left-handed solute: Punishable action of disrespect to a superior unless right arm is immobilized or otherwise incapacitated. Reference to any action of open disrespect.

Bird: airplane

Bravo: The letter 'b' in the phonetic alphabet. Ranger is saying that it's time for plan B

Sí, primo: Yes, cousin

Five-Seven-Three-Papa-Four-Alpha-November-One-Three-Niner: 5-7-3-P-4-A-N-1-3-9

Protect your 'six': Your six refers to your back. 'Watch your six' 'watch your back'. It's in reference to the face of a clock. 12 o'clock would be directly in front of you, 3 o'clock to your right, 9 o'clock to your left, 6 o'clock behind you.

21:00- 9:00 pm

If I missed anything, let me know – there was a lot of military lingo in this one.


	6. Recaptured: Les & Ranger

Disclaimer: See Ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: This one takes place right after the chapter break in Ch. 13 of JL, right after Steph falls asleep with Lester. Anyone wondering what happened when Ranger got home that night? Me, too. Here it is. The first part is from Les's POV, the second is from Ranger. Enjoy!

* * *

He looked like he'd been chewed up and spit back out as he walked through the door into his apartment. I watched him set down his keys and lock the door behind him. In slow motion, he kicked off his dress shoes and shed his loose tie. The top three buttons of his grey dress shirt were already undone. His hair, so much like Tio Ricardo's before he'd gone grey, was falling out of its tie. He'd clearly been running his fingers through it.

Finally, his eyes tracked through the apartment; slow, wary, as if he were afraid of what he might find. I cleared my throat softly and his eyes flew to Steph and I on the couch. His black eyes narrowed for a moment, then they softened and he _almost_ smiled. I swear.

He moved slowly, fluidly, across the room to us. His nod to me was more a dismissal than a greeting. I almost laughed. That was so Ranger; once he knew what he wanted, he was so single-minded. And he wanted Stephanie. Anyone with eyes could see it.

I slid gently out from under her and set her head on a pillow. Ranger's eyes caught mine as I stood to leave. So much was communicated in that stare, in that silence, but then that's the way it's always been with us; no words needed.

'_Thank you_,' that look said. And I gave him my own, silent '_you're welcome_.'

His sights fell back on Stephanie and then that was all he saw. I slipped my shoes back on and made my exit. Just as I was closing the door, I swear I heard him humming that old lullaby Abuela used to croon to us.

* * *

Seeing her there in my cousin's arms hurt more than it should have. It might seem otherwise from the outside, but I knew that Les had no designs on my babe. But still, it should have been me. I should have been here to save her myself, to carry her away from that bastard and hold her until she fell asleep. I vowed to myself that I would be that man from now on.

I knelt down and pulled her into my arms, softly humming an old lullaby my abuela used to sing. I held her tight against my chest as I made my way into the bedroom. I didn't want to let her go, but I really needed to shower and change.

I reluctantly deposited her into the middle of my bed and stepped back. God, she was so perfect there. I wanted her there every night, and not just for the obvious reasons. I wanted to hold her and smell her and feel her as I slept. I wanted to fall asleep against her back and breathe her in every morning when I woke up. I wanted her. Forever. Now I just had to tell her that.

I slipped away into the bathroom and took a quick shower and pulled on my black boxers. I slid smoothly into the bed and pulled Stephanie into my chest, kissing the top of her unruly brown curls. I couldn't help the purr of pleasure that came from deep in my throat; she just felt so _right_ there. I closed my eyes, and slept.

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to let me know what you thought! Another one is coming right after I post the next chapter of Just Life, which should be later today!


	7. Tracked: Lester

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: This takes place during chapter 16 of J.L. It's the phone conversation between Les and Ranger from Lester's POV. I just can't get enough of him.  Enjoy, and don't forget to let me know what you thought!

* * *

I took the phone from Stephanie with reluctance. I was insulted enough just being here, I didn't need to be reamed out now with an audience.

"Yeah, R-man."

Ranger's voice was calm and steady as he replied, "You're there because I need someone handling communications who I know will get the job done. Any mess-ups there and someone could get killed."

"Yeah, I got it, Ranger. I understand."

I heard him take a deep breath, then he let it out. "Alright, now screw that professional crap. Here's the real reason; I need someone there who I can trust to take care of Steph if anything goes down. If shit blows up and Trotter somehow finds a way in there, I need to know someone I trust is taking care of her, got it? I'm trusting you, Santos. You keep her safe. Screw everything else, Stephanie is your number one priority."

My eyes fell on Steph. I was floored. Ranger had pretty much just admitted what the rest of us had suspected for years now. Stephanie was very, _very_ important to him. Like numero uno important.

"Anything happens to her, and it's your ass in a sling."

"You got it, primo. Tomaré cuidado bueno de su mujer," I assured him.

"Bueno…bueno. Now, put her back on."

I handed the phone to Steph and smiled as I watched her talk to him. Did she have any idea? Had he told her? The guy was a goddamned idiot if he hadn't.

After a moment, she pulled the phone away from her face and glared at it like it was a bully who had stolen her lunch money. Haha, clearly Ranger had hung up on her.  Again.

When she finally looked up and turned those puppy dog eyes on me, I pretended I wanted nothing to do with her little Mission. I had no choice, really; I was supposed to stick on Stephanie like glue, but it couldn't hurt to make her beg a little. When I finally gave in, her smile was so radiant I knew exactly how my cousin had fallen in love with this woman. Fast and hard. There was no other way with Stephanie Plum.

* * *

Translations:

Numero uno – number one  
Primo – cousin  
Tomaré cuidado bueno de su mujer – I'll take good care of your woman  
Bueno…bueno – Good…good.


	8. Tracked: Tank

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks so much for the enthusiastic reviews! I love writing these and I'm glad you guys are enjoying them. This one is from Tank's POV. It picks up right at the end of chapter 16 of JL, so go read that first if you haven't already.

* * *

It was a good mission, a solid mission, really. We had a plan. We had a well-trained team. We had backup. Granted the backup were Trenton PD, but you can't have it all, right?

The guys were revved, Ranger was determined, the cops were itching to make an arrest; me, I was planning for the worst. Murphy's Law, right? Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Maybe it was my pessimistic attitude. Maybe it was the fucking cops. Maybe it was fate smiling down on us from her golden throne. Whatever it was, things went FUBAR. Fast.

The night started out fine. We got word to Trotter, via questionable channels, to meet us at the end of Stark; neutral territory, empty buildings for cover, no civilians around to get caught in the crossfire. It was perfect.

We got there early and scoped the place out. We hid the cops in the shadows and empty doorways, and prepared for the meet and greet.

Trotter showed twenty minutes later, still a half-hour early for our meeting. Clearly he was thinking along the same lines that we were; become familiar with the battle ground, avoid surprises. Too bad we were quicker than he was. He was certainly not going to like the surprise we had up our sleeves.

Ranger and Trotter left their weapons behind and strode to the center of the empty lot; no-man's land, a no-kill zone. They had their meeting of the minds, only it was apparent that no agreement had been made other than that there was no agreement. They allowed each other time to retreat and get their weapons. Then one of Trotter's guys drew a gun and fired.

And everything went to hell in a hand basket.

The cops took that as their cue to come rushing in, weapons drawn, badges flashing. They had enough for an arrest, and they were making it. Trotter's gang was having none of it. They fired on the LEOs, probably figuring that they could clean-sweep the place and get away with mass-murder. Fate wasn't exactly smiling on them, either.

Ranger had instructed the Rangemen to draw only if absolutely necessary; the downside of being in the presence of so many cops with only a handful of permits to carry concealed. We decided that point was moot as one, then another cop fell to the ground. The minute Rangeman began returning fire, Trotter's attention swiveled to us.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened after that. My mind reverted back to firefight-in-hostile-territory-mode, and my body went on automatic, shooting anything that was "enemy". I saw Hal fall, and Bobby rush over to him, shouting out instructions as he went. I heard Ranger call out to Manny and Zero to get up on a roof and give us some cover. I ignored them all, keeping in my zone.

Shots were fired and returned; eventually, some reverted to hand-to-hand; knives were withdrawn and wielded with deadly accuracy; blood flowed like water. It went on that way for what seemed like hours, then suddenly, there was a '_bang_' way too close for comfort and I spun and dove for Ranger who had been fighting next to me. I'm not sure if I made it or not. We both fell to the ground, then Ranger's weapon was up, sights on Trotter. The guy was staring at us, evil smirk in place, gun still smoking in his hand. The smirk faded just as Ranger pulled the trigger. Trotter fell to the ground and I knew that he was dead from the way his brains were leaking out onto the sidewalk. I turned back to grin at Ranger, and all the air rushed out of my lungs.

* * *

A/N: Teehee, teehee, evil cliffie. This will lead right into chapter 17 of Just Life and I promise that it will be up soon; I already have most of it written. Don't forget to let me know what you thought; I'll even take complaints and reprimands for the cliffhanger. :)


	9. Shattered: Bobby

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Anyone wondering what the hell was going through Bobby's head in chapter 17 of JL? Me, too! Here it is, enjoy!

* * *

I walked out into the waiting area, headed for the coffee machine, and froze in my tracks at the scene before me.

Bombshell was slouched over in one of the chairs, Morelli two chairs over looking concerned. Steph was sobbing, gasping for breath, her hands balled into fists in front of her. For God's sake, what the hell was she wearing?

"Are you okay, cupcake? I mean, I know you care about the guy, but…"

I stepped closer, ready to pick Morelli up by his collar and send him on his merry way if it came to that. Bad enough that Steph was clearly upset, she didn't need him around to add to it.

Steph gasped and her hand twitched as if she wanted to hit the guy. Lord knows I did.

"How dare you! I…I…I loved him, and now he's…"

Huh? Loved him? I mean, yeah, Tank was probably the Rangeman she was closest to aside from Ranger and Les, but love?

"Bombshell?"

She spun at the sound of my voice and flung herself into my arms. Okay, then.

I told her to breath, all the while rubbing soothing circles on her back. Was that a Rangeman shirt she was wearing? And nothing else? What could have possibly distressed her so much she'd come out barely dressed?

Morelli watched us for a moment, then nodded once to me and took off.

"I…I…I need to s-see him, B-Bobby."

Okay, why the hell was she so upset? Hadn't I seen Ranger come out here to call her about an hour ago? Surely he told her that Tank was going to be okay. Maybe it was Hal she was worried about. Maybe she was worried that her stunning him that one time a few years ago had had some impact on what had happened. Silly bomber. I opened my mouth to tell her this, then quickly closed it again. Probably not a good idea to mention it right now while she was so upset. Best just take her to see Tank like she asked.

I had to remind her to breath a few times as we moved down the hall towards Tank's room. I'm pretty sure she had her eyes closed the whole way. Why the hell was she freaking out so much over Tank getting shot?

I pulled her into the room and deposited her in front of the bed. The tears were falling fast by now, seeping out from under her clenched eyelids.

"It's okay, bombshell. You can open your eyes now."

She didn't. If anything, the tears came quicker, her body shaking with sobs. I still couldn't figure out what the big deal was. Maybe Ranger had neglected to tell her that Tank would be alright. Maybe she thought…

I stepped up behind her and laid my hands on her shaking shoulders.

"Steph, really, he's had worse."

Her eyes flew open.

"He's had wor…"

She stopped speaking as her eyes fell on the bed. I felt her deflate beneath my hands. I told her the logistics, then watched her take a few deep breaths. She swayed a bit and I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her upright. Then the tears started again. Good lord, what was wrong with the bomber today?

"R-Ranger," she finally gasped out.

"Oh." I was so confused at this point that I figured it would be a good idea to employ my interrogation face so as not to offend her by laughing. Maybe it was that time of the month. That tended to create all kinds of strange emotional flip-flops in women.  
"He's in the next room," I told her.

I pulled her with me—well, mostly I dragged her, as her face was once again buried in my shoulder—to the next room where Ranger was watching over Hal. He was asleep in a chair in the corner when we entered. I deposited her in the middle of the room and she did the whole eyes scrunched shut, tears leaking out thing again.

"Bombshell?"

Her eyes opened and she froze, little sounds of confusion and denial escaping around her tears.

Ranger's eyes flew open and he sat up straight in his chair. His eyes scanned the room quickly, taking in me and my intense confusion before landing on Stephanie, sobbing in the middle of the room.

"Babe?" He said.

Steph froze, then turned slowly to face Ranger. Her eyes were wide and shining as she surveyed him quickly. Her hand flew to her mouth with a gasp.

"Babe? What is it?"

She shook her head, her blue eyes full of…relief? Then she was moving towards him and he took her into his arms, asking no questions, demanding no explanations. She collapsed into his lap. Ranger caught my eyes and nodded once.

I took that as my cue. I turned and slipped out the door, closing it behind me. I was just as confused as ever, but at least now she was Ranger's to deal with. I gave a sigh of relief. I loved the bomber like a little sister, but what the hell did I know about crying females?

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to let me know what you thought!


	10. Held Up: Ranger

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Look at me, I'm on a writing rampage! So this is a conversation that I had planned to include in chapter 18, but I completely spaced and it got left out. So here it is from Ranger's pov. It takes place right after Steph gives Ranger "all the rest of her" in chapter 18 of JL. Enjoy!

* * *

We were lying in bed trying to get our breathing back under control when she spoke.

"What if you get in trouble for…for…Trotter?"

I smiled warmly and pulled her close.

"Is that what you were thinking about while I was plundering you?"

She smiled to herself.

"Oh, no. I was definitely very focused on the plundering."

We were quiet for a few moments, and I wondered if she'd just let it drop. Then she spoke again. My babe was very persistent when she wanted answers.

"But all those cops were right there. They had to have witnessed…" She trailed off, apparently unwilling to admit aloud the fact that I had killed someone; a couple of someone's, actually.

"Why didn't they arrest you?" She looked up at me and her eyes widened. "Oh, God, are you on the run? Are they going to bust down the door any minute and take you away? Oh, Ranger, we've got to go," she said, making as if to rise from the bed. I pulled her back down.

"Calm, babe."

"But, Ranger, we have to run, they could be here at any moment."

"They're not coming, babe."

Her eyes just about bugged out of her head.

"But, but, you…you…"

"I killed someone, babe. You can say it."

She ignored me and continued with her frantic rambling, all the while trying to pull out of my arms and get off the bed.

"Ranger, they have to arrest you, it's like their cop-ly duty or something. How could they just…"

"We have an understanding."

She stilled, her eyes finding mine. "Huh?"

"The cops and Rangeman. We have an understanding."

"What the hell kind of understanding allows them to ignore a…a…"

"A murder?"

"But it was self-defense." She looked up at me, her eyes as big as saucers. "Right?"

"Yes."

"So, then…"

"So, then even if they did arrest me, we'd have nothing to worry about. But they won't."

She looked so confused that I almost laughed.

"Babe, without Rangeman's help, the cops would never have gotten their arrests. Those guys were big busts, believe me. Morelli and his buddies would have all been killed if not for us. Besides, we only killed bad guys. The cops understand that the world is better without that trash in it, and there's no sense in punishing those who got rid of them."

"But…how…"

"Someone will change the forensics and autopsy reports. It'll be department issued bullets that killed those drug dealers. Rangeman wasn't involved at all as far as anyone else is concerned."

She was quiet for so long that I began to worry she was mad or something.

"They're not crooked cops, babe. They just do what it takes to get the job done."

She peered up at me and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. I held her tight to my chest and ran a hand up and down her back.

"Is that what happened with Abruzzi?"

I stilled. I'd never meant Steph to know about that, though I knew she was too smart to not put it together on her own.

"Abruzzi committed suicide, babe," I whispered.

She blinked back her tears and nodded once.

"Right."

I wasn't sure why I was reluctant to tell her more. Maybe I just didn't want her any more involved with that aspect of my life than she already was. She was the light in my life, I didn't want any of the darkness to touch her. I took a deep breath.

"There was no need for an understanding with Abruzzi, babe. There was no evidence of foul play."

Her eyes found mine and understanding flashed between us. This was what she'd been wanting, I realized, openness between us. And suddenly I was more than willing to allow it.

"But if there ever was, the cops would get rid of it, right?"

I nodded.

"What about Morelli?" She asked quietly. "He hates you."

"He hates the bad guys more, Steph."

She looked at me for a moment longer, then snuggled down into my chest, her face in the crease of my neck and shoulder. Her warm breath brushed my throat tantalizingly as she whispered, "Thank you, Carlos. I love you."

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to let me know what you thought!

Oh, and go check out my new Plum oneshot, "Foundations".


	11. Held Up: Ranger 2

Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: So, here's the chapter we've all been waiting for, the bank robbery form Ranger's POV. It's the longest chapter yet for Between the Lines, I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

I was about half a minute away from banging my head against the table. Or, better yet, maybe I should just reach across and bang this fool's head into the wood instead.

I'd been in this meeting for about two hours now and we'd yet to finalize anything. Mr. Lunt refused to make any final plans without his lawyer present. It just so happened that his lawyer had chosen this week to visit his time-share in Barbados. And I couldn't even kick this guy out and tell him to come back with his representation, because he'd take offense to that and I could not afford to lose him as a client.

Lunt was high-profile, and high-paying, and so I sat and listened to him ramble and wished I was anywhere but here, but mostly I wished that I was back upstairs with my babe.

I was coming to realize that I had been a fool to deny my feelings for her for so long. It was like now that I had her, I couldn't possibly contemplate ever having lived without her. There had been women, of course, used to satisfy biological urges; in the back rooms of bars, in cheap motel rooms, in alleys outside of clubs. Not one of them ever measured up. Not one of them could touch the place she held in my heart. Not one of them made me lose myself like I did when I was in bed with her, inside of her.

I shook my head to rid it of those thoughts and tried to focus back on Lunt as he rambled on about camera angles that he wanted, and upgrades in alarm systems.

The door opened just as I'd been about to interrupt and ask Lunt to come back another day. Tank stuck his head in.

"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but I've got something you need to hear."

Oh, thank God.

I nodded once to Tank as he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lunt, but it appears business calls. Could we possibly continue this at another time? Perhaps when your legal aid is available to join us."

Mr. Lunt grumbled something about ungrateful corporate suits, and I almost laughed out loud at the thought of him lumping me in with those schmucks. If only he knew.

"Fine. I'll be in touch."

I handed him off to Wally as I left the room, giving instructions to escort our valued client the fuck out of my building. I might have phrased it a bit more professionally out loud.

"What?" I said to Tank as soon as we were alone.

"Come on," he told me. "They've got it broadcasting to the fifth floor."

I followed him into the elevator and remained silent as we ascended to five.

Pretty much all of my men were present as we stepped off the elevator and into the control room. Bobby and the new guy Troy were seated in front of the monitors. Bobby looked up as I entered and nodded towards the main phone. That's when I noticed the voices emitting from it.

"_Oh, fuck, oh shit, oh crap. Ranger's gonna have my balls in a sling."_

"Who?" I asked through gritted teeth, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer. I'd recognize my cousin's voice anywhere.

"Santos," Bobby replied.

"_He seen you?"_ I heard Lester ask.

"Who's he with?" I asked. "And why the fuck is his phone transmitting?"

"He's with bom…"

"_I don't know,"_ I heard my babe mutter. _"I don't think so."_

I glared at Bobby.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Er, well, boss…"

"Bank robbery," Tank answered from behind me. "Santos and the bomber are stuck in there as hostages as far as we can tell. Santos's phone started transmitting about five minutes ago. We haven't heard much yet."

I turned my glare on my best friend.

"Why in the hell are you all standing around here, then? Find out where they are and get the fuck over there."

Every man in the room moved towards an exit. I was about to follow when what was unmistakably a gunshot rang out over the phone line.

I froze, my heart ceasing to beat in my chest.

A whole bunch of screams echoed over the line, although not one I recognized as Steph's. Come on, I thought. Come on, say something.

"_Cell phones, PDAs, any other fucking communication device you got, here, pile, now!" _Yelled a voice I didn't recognize.

Come on, babe. Talk to me.

The phone line went silent.

I spun on Bobby.

"What the hell did you do?"

"He…he hung up, boss."

All eyes were on me.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I practically yelled.

About five minutes later, we were parked across the street from North Union Bank. The TPD was there, and we were staying back, awaiting the FBI to start hostage negotiations. Every single one of my nerve endings screamed at me to just charge in there, guns blazing and get my babe, but I knew it was best to wait. That gunshot scared me, though, and the TPD guys agreed that we'd give the Feds about three more minutes before we acted without them.

They were the longest three minutes of my life.

When the FBI finally contacted us, we were told that the closest team was still two hours away negotiating with a kid at a high school, who was threatening to bomb the place. Two hours was about two hours too long.

"We don't have a negotiator," the chief told me, as he got off the phone with the FBI.

"I've got a profiler," I told him. "He knows some crazy shit about the way criminals minds work."

We agreed that Manny was our best bet, and two minutes later we had a line set up and Manny was dialing the bank number.

"This is Manuel Vargas with…with um…" Manny looked back at me and I shrugged. Probably not best to admit to the bad guys that we weren't FBI, or even cops really. But if these guys came from my circle, my name might be a good thing to mention. Apparently Manny was thinking along the same lines, and decided to find out who it was he was talking to first.

He listened to the answer, then glanced back at me with a grin.

"Shit, bombshell? It's Manny. You okay?"

Bombshell, babe, Stephanie. I took my first real breath since hearing that gunshot.

He nodded at me after listening to her answer. She was okay. Gracias al Dios.

Manny was talking into the phone, asking to speak to the robbers, but I didn't hear any of it. I was practically shaking with relief now that I knew she was okay. We still weren't out of this, I knew, but she wasn't hurt, and that was all that mattered.

Nothing Manny was saying registered until he turned back to us and said that there were three perps. Good job, babe. It was tough sneaking stuff like that into conversation and making it seem innocent. Although, I should have known she'd be good at this, my babe was nothing if not inventive.

Manny recited his spiel about needing to know that we could trust the guy. Fucking hilarious. Like you could ever really trust a criminal. I sobered at the thought that technically, I was a criminal, too. I'd killed people. I'd broken and entered. I'd operated many times in the grey area between lawful and illegal. I shook my head to clear it, and that's when I heard Manny swear under his breath.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head, and continued listening.

"Bombshell," he whispered. "Can't keep her damn smart mouth to herself."

I held out my hand for the phone.

Manny stared at me like I was nuts.

"Give me the damn phone," I told him. "That's an order."

He handed it over grudgingly and slumped back in his chair to watch, probably sure that I was about to ruin the whole damn thing and get about twenty hostages killed. I prayed to God that I wasn't.

"Babe?" I spoke into the phone quietly, suddenly wishing that I were alone.

I heard her suck in a breath before she answered. "Yeah?"

God it was so good just to hear her voice, to know that she was alive and breathing and unharmed. I could just sit here all day and listen to her breath. But I knew that the sooner we had this negotiated, the sooner I could hold her in my arms. So I pushed back the need to reassure myself that she was okay, and let my Army mode take over. "Tell him to send out a hostage. Any hostage will do, but it would be best to start with anyone who's sick or injured."

"Everyone's fine," she whispered.

Good, I thought, good. I was about to ask her what was with the gunshot, then, when Manny motioned with his hands for me to keep things going.

"Kids, then," I told her. "Are there any kids?"

"Two," she whispered.

"Okay, tell him to let the kids go. Then we can discuss what he gets."

I heard her relay the message to the robbers, grateful that she was being nice and polite. Keep them calm and make it seem like they're the ones in charge, that's the key.

There was silence for several moments, then her quiet voice came back on the line.

"Mortars is here."

Great, just great. Just what I fucking need right now, fucking Edwin Mortars in there with my babe. I took a deep breath. "He's one of the robbers?"

"No, he's a hostage."

"Holy fuck," I muttered. "Only you, babe." She was quiet as I thought. I didn't think Mortars would pull anything now, in the middle of this clusterfuck, but I could never be sure. I told her to stick close to Santos. I was glad to hear that my cousin still had his weapons. Santos was a smart guy, and I trusted him implicitly. I knew that if shit went down, he'd try his damndest to get Steph out okay.

I gave her a message for Santos and then waited, relishing in the soft in and out of her breathing, as the robbers apparently discussed their plan of action. A few moments later, they had it; they'd send the kids out, but they wanted some beers. Fucking unbelievable. Children in exchange for alcoholic beverages.

I told Babe we'd send the beers, then hung up. My heart ached as soon as the phone was back in its cradle.

"You alright, Rangeman?" Manny asked me.

"Fine," I muttered. "Get them their damn beers."

It was another ten minutes before we had the beer in place in front of the door. We watched as a woman opened the door and sent the kids out. TPD grabbed them and hurried them behind the line of cars. My eyes strained to make out anything inside the bank as the woman rushed out, grabbed the beer, and booked it back into the bank. There was a gun being held on someone inside, no doubt. Otherwise, any sane person would have made a break for it.

"What now?" I asked Manny, praying that his answer would include guns and smoke bombs.

"We wait a few minutes for them to start in on the beer, then we call again."

I wanted to rip my hair out with all this waiting. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that I knew Steph love it so much. I wanted to feel her hands in it. I wanted to feel her hands everywhere. I wanted her safe, at home in my bed, wearing my t-shirt, and so wet for me that I'd slide home with absolutely no foreplay at all. Not that I didn't love the foreplay…

"Hey, bomber, everyone still okay?" Manny said, breaking me out of my reverie. Damnit, I'd wanted to be the one to call. I wasn't used to sitting back and letting other people take charge. Besides, I wanted to hear her voice again. But Manny was more qualified for this sort of thing, so I clenched my fists and tried to be calm.

They discussed the kids and some more trust shit, and I wondered when I had stopped caring about the technicalities of these situations. I realized with little surprise that it was the moment Stephanie became a factor; then all I cared about was her.

They were talking about cars now, and Manny was telling Steph to act dumb in order to get the robbers to come talk to Manny.

"You're going to get her killed," I ground out from between my teeth.

The damn bastard just shook his head.

I was going to fucking gut him.

There was some more back and forth and I'm pretty sure one of the bad guys got on the phone, because Manny's tone changed completely.

He was trying to be charming and placating and clearly failing miserably when we all heard the gunshot.

Manny looked up at me, panicked, and pumped his finger up and down on the little hanger-upper-thing on the receiver a few times.

"He hung up."

"Well get him the fuck back," I yelled. I rarely yelled. I think it was that more than anything that had Manny spinning in his chair and hitting redial faster than you could say 'Yo'.

Manny's shoulders slumped as soon as the phone was answered, and my heart stopped again. Then he spoke in a calmer voice and turned to nod at me.

"Heard the shot, everyone okay?"

He wouldn't talk to a robber like that, which meant one thing, that my babe was okay. I slumped back against the car behind me, weak with relief.

"Guy's shot in the shoulder," Manny told me quickly. "They're getting violent. We need to make plans to move in."

I was already formulating. My mind flew backwards in time to 1999, Moscow. A hostage situation involving a Russian czar and his wife. Bobby, Tank, and I had infiltrated the organization that had kidnapped them in order to gain insider information and get our marks out quickly. Santos had arrived two days later with another plan. He'd purposely gotten himself captured by the insurgent group. His tracker, like the ones we'd all had implanted before our first covert op, had led us straight to him and the other hostages. We'd had them out, with minimal bloodshed in less than six hours.

We'd all since had our trackers removed, but I had the perfect replacement; right in my babe's ear.

There was another gunshot. I made myself force the fear to the back of my mind. Third time's a charm, my brain laughed cruelly. I shut it out. It was go-time.

"We're coming in," I heard Manny say, and I prayed to God that he was still talking to Stephanie.

I motioned for the phone.

"Wait, Steph, Ranger wants to talk to you."

"Babe?"

I waited on pins and needles to hear her voice. "I'm here."

I let out the breath I'd been unconsciously holding. "Listen to me, I need you to do what I tell you and don't ask questions, okay?"

"Umm, okay."

"I need you to give one of your earrings to Santos."

She sounded completely and utterly perplexed as she asked, "What? Why?"

I dreaded having that conversation with her. Good thing there was no time now.

"I'll explain later. Just do it, please. And tell Lester to remember Moscow."

"Okay," she drew the word out like she wasn't sure what the hell was going on but she was willing to humor me.

I heard the robbers ask about the car, and told her to assure them that it would be there in ten. They wanted the doors and trunk open. Smart for bank robbers. They wanted to make sure we weren't hiding cops inside. Too bad for them that they were going to be taking something even worse than a cop along with them voluntarily when they left. Lester could be pretty damned deadly when he wanted to be. I nearly grinned.

We disconnected and I called Tank over to help me organize the guys. Three teams in the front, two in the back. As soon as Lester and those motherfucking perps were out of there, I'd have my babe.

I pulled out my cell phone.

Lance picked up in the control room halfway through the first ring.

"Get me Cal on a private line."

"Yes, boss."

There were a few moments of silence, then Cal came on the line.

"Yeah, Ranger, I'm here."

"I need you to access Eliza."

Cal had been the only other person to know of the existence of Steph's secret tracker. That was only because he had created it. Cal was my tracker go-to guy.

"You got it, boss. Just give me a minute."

I found myself counting silently in order to remain calm. I got to 36 before Cal's voice came back over the line.

"I've got it up, now what?"

"Can you split it somehow, between the two trackers?" We'd put one tracker in each earring just in case she happened to lose one.

"Yeah, they transmit on one frequency when they're together, but as soon as they're separated, they transmit separately."

"Are you seeing two signals right now?" I asked, meanwhile watching the front of the bank where Ram was now parking the car we'd 'acquired' for the robbers. There was a tracker in the car, of course, but if they left the car, I wanted to know where Lester was.

"One signal, boss…oh, wait, now there are two."

A second after he said this, three guys in head-to-toe black walked out of the bank, Lester right in front of them, blocking any shot.

"One's Les, one's Steph," I told Cal quickly. "Can you transmit those signals to the SUV's?"

"Hell, yeah, I can."

"Les's is the one that's going to be moving…now."

"Got it."

"Send that one to Ram's car. Tell him to take Zero and their teams and tail Les until they can get him and take out the robbers."

"On it, boss. What about Steph's?"

I watched the black car pull away from the bank and the cops start swarming the place.

"Nowhere for now, I'm going in to get her." I disconnected.

Tank was by my side before I had even reached the bank's entrance.

"You got guys on Santos?"

"Covered," I told him as we continued forward.

"Let's get the bomber."

We entered the bank to a scene of mass chaos. Could the TPD _do it_ any other way? I didn't think so. Cops were trying to calm the hostages, get them up and out the doors. We didn't know if the robbers had planted any kind of explosive devices, and we really didn't want to risk anything at this point.

My eyes scanned the crowd. No babe.

"You see her?" I asked Tank.

"Negative."

The group was starting to thin now, only cops left to sweep the place for stragglers. Everyone was to get out until a bomb squad could clear the place. Still no Stephanie.

"Where the fuck is she?" I muttered to myself.

"I haven't seen Mortars either," Tank said.

I turned to look at him.

"Would you stick around if you were him?"

"Nah, man, but I didn't even see him leave."

"Maybe he went out a…"

It clicked for both of us at the exact same moment.

"Back door," we said in unison. We were off and racing for the emergency exit. We ran down a hallway and past a bunch of offices to a stairwell. At the end of the stairwell was the emergency door. It was disengaged and flapping in the wind.

I sprinted out the door. The back lot was empty. Fuck.

"Get Cal on the phone," I threw over my shoulder at Tank.

I heard him grunt in reply as I moved slowly back and forth just outside the door, looking for anything that would lead me to my babe.

"Here, man," Tank said, handing me my phone.

"Send Steph's signal to Tank's truck," I told Cal.

There was nothing but the clicking of a keyboard for a few seconds, then, "Done."

I disconnected and handed the phone back to Tank.

"Get me the four closest guys who are available, tell them to follow us."

I took off around the corner for Tank's truck. He beeped it open just as I reached it. I slid into the driver's side and grabbed the keys out of thin air as he tossed them to me. He was in on the passenger's side by the time I had the thing started, and I peeled out of the lot.

"Take a left," Tank told me, after he flicked on the GPS. "Then a right on Canal."

I did as told, nothing else making even a dent in my concentration. A nuclear warhead could have fallen in my path and I probably would have driven right over it. I prayed for anyone dumb enough to dart in front of me.

"Two miles up, take a right."

My hands were clenching the steering wheel so hard that they were cramping. I didn't care. I was seeing red.

"Second building on the left."

I'm pretty sure I drove right up onto the sidewalk before I threw the thing in park and jumped out. I wanted blood, Mortars blood. And I wanted it leaking out of every fucking orifice until he was drained.

I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder and I swung around, striking out with the heel of my hand.

Tank deflected the blow and twisted me into a headlock.

"Get the fuck off," I muttered.

"Not until you calm the fuck down," he growled. "You're going to get yourself killed going in there half-cocked like that. And then what good will you be to her?"

I gritted my teeth against the bitter taste of reason.

"Fine," I muttered, trying to shake off his iron hold.

"You sure?"

"Damnit, Tank, let me go. I'm fine."

He let me go slowly and I stumbled away from him, sucking in deep breaths as I struggled to rein in my emotions. This was only about the third time in my life that I'd had to do it. Funny, the other two times had involved Stephanie as well.

"I'm good," I muttered. "The team here?"

A black SUV squealed to a stop as I was speaking and Bobby, Troy, Vince, and Manny got out.

"Let's go," Tank said.

The building was old and decrepit and smelled like urine and death. It was two-stories high. Probably it used to be an apartment building, but it had fallen into such disrepair that even the homeless had clearly left it alone for awhile.

I sent Bobby, Troy, and Vince off to clear the first floor, and the rest of us moved on to the second. Our search was fruitless, there was nothing to find.

"Clear," I heard Bobby say from the floor below. Vince and Troy echoed him.

"Clear," Manny called from down the hall.

A moment later Tank said the same.

I struggled to remain calm. You're an Army Ranger, I told myself. You're a mercenary. You're a silent and deadly killer. None of that mattered now that the woman I loved was involved. Where the hell was she?

"Go check the fucking GPS again," I told Tank.

He was already moving towards the stairs when we heard the scream.

That was my babe's scream, I'd know that scream anywhere. I ran towards the sound.

I was standing in an empty room shaking with pent-up rage when Tank and Manny nearly slammed into me from behind.

"This is where it was coming from," Tank muttered.

No fucking shit.

The rest of the team filed in just as another scream rent the silence.

"Find her," I gritted out. "Now."

We split up and combed the room as if with a fine-toothed comb. My babe was nearby, and I was damned if I was going to hear her scream again and not be able to do anything about it. Then again, the not screaming was just as bad. What if she'd…what if she was…

"R-man, over here," Manny called.

He was kneeling in the closet, pointing at a nearly indistinguishable crack in the wall.

"Hidden room," he whispered. He ran one hand along the crack until he touched a small hook that jutted out to form a handle.

"On three," I said. I unholstered my gun and took a couple of deep breaths. Mortars was about to pay up.

"One…two…three."

Manny pulled open the door and I stepped into the room.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you thought!


	12. Epilogue: Ranger

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Disclaimer: See ch. 1

Spoilers: Through 14

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read or reviewed this story or Just Life. This is the final chapter of BtL, and it takes place after chapter 20 of Just Life. Sorry for anyone who was looking forward to the "paint peeling scene", I just wasn't feeling it. That said, expect some smut here. Tee hee.

* * *

"Babe? Are you ready to go?"

I received no answer.

"Babe, we're going to be late." Granted, I for one didn't care if we made it there at all, but I figured she'd want to know.

Still, there was no answer from the bathroom. I was just about to pick the lock on the door and go check on her myself when the knob turned and the door swung slowly inward. My babe stepped out, and every breath in my lungs vanished.

She was stunning, and sexy, and looked good enough to eat.

Her black dress was strapless. The neckline was simple yet just revealing enough; a sweetheart neckline, she'd told me earlier. I'll tell you, she didn't look like anybody's sweetheart with her satiny smooth breasts peeking out of the top of that thing. The bodice hugged every one of her delectable curves, and the skirt ended about three inches above her knees. I didn't see a goddamn panty-line. Lord, help me.

Her hair was down in soft curls, just begging for my fingers to muss it up. She wasn't wearing much makeup from what I could tell, but in my opinion she didn't need any at all.

She looked up at me through her lashes and gave me that completely feminine smile that said _'I know I'm hot, now what are you going to do about it?'_

I knew what I wanted to do about it. I also knew that if I touched her now, we wouldn't be leaving this bedroom until at least tomorrow.

"You like?" She asked, moving past me to retrieve the three inch 'Fuck me' pumps she'd deposited in my closet earlier.

"It's hot," I rumbled. "But it'd look better on the floor."

She stepped into the shoes, bent forward to buckle them, affording me a perfect view of her sexy little ass. I'm pretty sure I groaned. There was no way she was wearing panties under there.

"Playing with fire, babe."

She straightened up and turned back towards me.

"You'll have to control yourself, Ranger. I promised Grandma I'd be there."

I took a few slow steps towards her and she backed up until she hit the closed bedroom door.

"I don't know, babe. Lula, your Granny, and a kid who thinks she's a horse. Not to mention half of the 'Burg. What's in it for me?" I took the last step to her and pinned her to the door, one hand on either side of her head, my hips cradling hers. She let out a small gasp of pleasure before answering.

"I'm not wearing any panties."

I leaned down until my lips brushed her earlobe.

"I know," I whispered, and felt her shiver beneath me. "Is that for me?"

She shook her head slowly, as if in a daze. "Didn't want a panty-line."

"Ahhh," I whispered as I rocked my erection against her center, torturing both of us. "Wouldn't want that."

Her head fell back and she clutched at my arms. "Ranger."

I brought my face around to hers and captured her lips in a hungry kiss that had us both panting.

"Carlos," she whimpered when I pulled back.

I grinned against her lips. "Now, that's better." Then I stepped away from her and went to the closet to retrieve her shawl. I'm pretty sure I heard her growl in frustration.

"We don't want to be late, babe. You promised your grandma."

I think she muttered something like _'screw grandma'_ as I helped her on with her shawl and led her out the door.

We were halfway to the hall they'd rented before Stephanie finally broke the silence.

"You know, that was really cruel back there. You're such a tease."

I glanced over at her quickly before returning my eyes to the road.

"_I'm_ a tease? Who's the one not wearing underwear?"

I could feel her narrowed eyes on me as I took a left onto Grand.

"Babe, it's not the same."

"The hell it's not the same. Do you know what it's like for me to see you every day and know that you're commando under there?"

My dick was still so hard it could probably break concrete.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Only your _knowing_ is a little less conspicuous than mine." I motioned to my lap.

I heard her breath catch and her voice was a bit strangled as she said, "I'm sorry, Ranger. I really didn't want a panty-line."

"Oh, that's fine, babe," I answered with a wolf-grin. "You just better be prepared for the consequences."

She let out a squeak as I swung the Cayenne into the lot.

"Ranger, you're not going to…I mean, half the Burg will be here. You've got to behave."

I just gave her another grin before I placed a hand on the small of her back and led her inside.

We were only about half an hour into the party and I was burning with the need to touch her. She was sitting with Lula, Connie, and her sister Val, sipping something fruity and alcoholic. Every few minutes, she'd glance over her shoulder and give me a smoldering look.

I was pretty sure she was just reassuring herself that I was still there. I mean, with a handsy eighty-year-old woman after your package, and a (hopefully) mother-in-law-to-be glaring at you every five minutes like she was afraid you'd sneak off with the china—or maybe just her daughter—any sane man would have been halfway to Brazil by now. No one had ever accused me of being sane. Besides, I'd put up with Granny all night if it made my babe happy. Because happy meant willing and…

Oh God, I was killing myself.

I quickly focused my attention back on my own table mates. Tank was busy watching Lula with what had to have been the same look I'd been wearing not two minutes before. Steph told me he'd been invited mostly because he was Lula's date and Lula was pretty friendly with Granny. I was pretty sure it was mostly so that Granny could tell everyone she'd had two black men with great packages at her wedding reception. No need to mention the fact that I wasn't black.

Seated on the other side of Tank, Albert Kloughn looked like he was about to piss himself. He'd been babbling on like an idiot since we'd sat down, and it was taking a whole bunch of effort not to take out my Glock and shoot him.

What? I'd shoot him in the leg or something. Babe wouldn't be too happy if I killed the guy, but a shot to the leg would at least require a trip to the ER which would get him out of my hair long enough for me to grab Steph and escape.

On my other side, ignoring Kloughn with what had to be practiced ease, was Frank Plum.

I have to say, I'm pretty sure he'd the only sane member of the Plum-Mazur family aside from my babe.

He'd shaken my hand before taking his seat, nodded at Tank and Kloughn, then completely absorbed himself in his beer. Or so I'd thought.

"So, Ranger…"

"Call me Carlos, sir."

He looked up at me with what might have been approval, then nodded.

"Carlos, I understand that my daughter has been living with you for the past month or so."

I watched him for a moment, trying to see where he was going with this. I got nothing. The man had a blank face to rival my own.

"She has." I nodded.

"I'm not going to ask you what your intentions are. My daughter is old enough, mature enough, intelligent enough, to judge these things for herself."

He cleared his throat and I heard him mumble something about _'the Dick'_ and _'that lowlife Morelli'_ before he continued.

"I just want you to know that you're not the only one with a military background, and if you hurt my daughter, I'll hunt you down and teach you the meaning of a bag of dicks." His eyes were shrewd and assessing as he glanced up at me.

"You got me, boy?"

My respect for Mr. Plum skyrocketed in that moment.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded once. "Good. Now, call me Frank."

I had to chuckle as he reverted back to the laid-back guy he'd always been.

Granny and her man Liam made the rounds before dinner, greeting everybody and going on about their shotgun wedding and how in love they were. It probably would have made me sick had I not recently begun feeling the exact same way.

Liam Riley was a stand-up guy. He was an ex-Navy seal, turned NCIS agent, now retired and spending his time keeping Edna in line. It was a job in and of itself, I knew. He had a remarkable effect on Mrs. Mazur…scratch that. Mrs. Riley. She barely even glanced at my package, which was a good thing considering I was still semi-hard from Steph's little surprise earlier.

Finally, Mrs. Plum announced that it was time for dinner and everyone moved to their assigned seats.

Stephanie and I were seated with Tank, Lula, Connie, and a couple of Steph's cousins whose names I dismissed as soon as I'd heard them. Don't get me wrong, I could tell you their names, their eye and hair color, body type, distinguishing characteristics. I could tell you that the guy with the red hair had been divorced recently. His sister, Noelle, was about three months pregnant. She hadn't told her husband yet. The husband drove a Nissan and had called home twice to check on the baby-sitter with their other two kids. I was pretty sure he was banging her. I just didn't particularly care about any of this, not with my babe sitting not six inches from me with heat radiating from her and smelling so damn good I wanted to bury my face in her shoulder and never move again.

Before I could think, my hand was on her thigh, lightly caressing in soft circles. She gripped my forearm in an attempt to stall me, but her efforts were in vain. She couldn't pull my hand away without causing a scene, and no way was Steph about to do that in front of her family and half the Burg.

"Ranger," she scolded out of the corner of her mouth.

"Relax," I whispered just as our food was set down before us.

I took a few bites of my rice and allowed her to dig into her mashed potatoes before I slowly slid my hand higher up her thigh.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth and a long breath escaped her.

"You okay, girl?" Lula asked around a mouthful of ham. "Them potatoes taste alright?"

"Fine," Stephanie squeaked.

My hand moved further up her thigh, eliciting a small gasp. She clamped her knees together and turned to me with narrowed eyes.

"I told you to behave, Ranger," she breathed so that only I could hear.

I leaned down in the pretense of placing a kiss on her jaw line and whispered, "I told _you_ to be prepared to face the consequences." I nibbled a bit on her neck as she continued to protest halfheartedly.

I pulled away and took a bite of chicken before slipping my hand under her dress and lightly teasing the soft curls I found there.

No goddamn panties. My dick was so hard in my pants I thought it was surely going to split a seam.

Steph's eyes slid closed momentarily as another breath escaped her. I ran my fingers lightly between her legs, urging them open. She obeyed without a struggle.

"Aren't you hungry, babe?" I asked aloud. "You've barely touched your roast."

She bit her bottom lip as my middle finger finally encountered her dewy wetness.

I probably would have groaned had I not had myself under such strict control. It was a skill you learned when your life depended on keeping silent despite any sort of outside stimuli. Such as Stephanie's obvious need for me.

I traced my finger up and down her slit, spreading her juices, always avoiding the little nub at the top that would give her the greatest pleasure.

She shifted a bit in her chair, trying to get my hand to where she wanted it, but I evaded her.

"Patience," I whispered.

And all the while, conversation continued on around us. Lula and Connie discussed a sale at the mall. The cousins talked to Tank about chasing fugitives and security tips and God knows what else. No one was aware of the game going on below the table.

I was glad for the long table cloth as I moved my fingers back to Steph's wetness. No need to give the whole room a show, now was there?

I flicked my middle finger over her clit, once, twice, three times. Steph's grip on her fork was white knuckled, her eyes were glazed over with arousal.

"You sure you're alright, Steph? You look a little flushed."

"F-fine," Steph stuttered.

"I think she just needs to eat something," I murmured. I scooped up a bite of rice and held it up to her lips. "Take a bite of this, babe. It's fantastic."

Just as her lips closed around my fork, I slid one finger into her.

Her moan was met by chuckles from the group. Stephanie always was vocal when she was enjoying her food. What the others didn't know was that she was enjoying something much better just below the table cloth.

I slid my finger out of her, and then slowly back in.

"Good, huh?" I murmured.

Her eyes slid closed as I removed the fork from her mouth.

"So good."

"Mmmm. Try this, then," I said, offering her a bite of chicken.

The food had barely touched her tongue when I slid a second finger into her and she let out a very satisfying moan.

"Ranger," she gasped.

"Mmm. Bueno, no?

She nodded wordlessly as my fingers took up a slow, steady rhythm; in and out, in and out, flick over her clit.

Her eyes opened wide and she covered her gasp with a cough.

"You need some water?" Connie asked.

Steph nodded and took a long gulp out of her glass.

I could tell how close she was by the way her body squeezed my fingers, as if it might never let go. I never wanted it to.

My erection was painfully hard. I was sure that the sight of her coming in front of all these people would undo me, but I continued anyway. In, out, flick, in, out, flick.

She was squirming in her seat and I was sure that at least Tank must be aware of what was going on. He wasn't my second in command for nothing.

A waitress slipped in to take away our dishes and another brought along a tray of desserts. I grabbed a cup of chocolate mousse and set it down between Steph and me.

She eyed the treat with some trepidation.

I scooped up a bite with my free hand, crooked my fingers inside her, pressed my thumb to her clit, and slid the dessert into her mouth to disguise the series of sighs and moans that followed.

It wasn't until her thighs stopped quivering and she turned to me with soft eyes and heaving breasts that I finally slipped my hand out from between her legs.

"That good, huh?" Tank chuckled, nodding towards the mousse.

Steph looked up at him as if just realizing he was there. A gorgeous blush crept over her cheeks as she cleared her throat and nodded.

"That good."

Tank laughed once more, then turned back to Lula.

Steph caught my hand as it came out from under the table. Before I could even contemplate what she was doing, she'd used the two fingers I'd had inside her to scoop up a bit of mousse. I nearly came in my pants when she raised my hand to her lips and proceeded to suck the sticky mess off.

"You know what, Batman?" She asked around licks.

I shook my head, unable to speak around the lump in my throat and the throbbing member in my pants.

"Turnabout's fair play," she whispered with a grin.

I'm pretty sure I jumped about a foot when Granny's voice piped up from over my shoulder, "That's what I always say, sonny."

Lord, help me.

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A/N: Again, thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with Just Life and Between the Lines. Your input has kept me writing. You can expect one last chapter of Just Life, which will hopefully be up soon. A happy new year to everyone!

A bag of dicks – U.S. military lingo which describes a problematic or intractable situation

Bueno, no? – Good, no?


End file.
